


You and Me Together, Nothing Better

by Verisimilitude



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verisimilitude/pseuds/Verisimilitude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taken from <a href="http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/12826.html?thread=66207258#t66207258">this prompt</a> on the Sherlock kink meme:</p><p> </p><p>  <i>John teases Sherlock by sliding into him only half-way, then running his fingertips around the edge of where they're connected...</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	You and Me Together, Nothing Better

John shudders, echoing the tremors running through the body underneath his. He's breathless, although he's barely left the bed in the last few hours, and he's sweating, despite the night time chill in the air. Pale moonlight paints the room in varying shades of silver and grey as it streams through a gap in the curtains.

The faint light turns Sherlock's back into a map of long, lean plains and dark , mysterious valleys, some of the sharp angles of shoulder blades and hips softened by light and shadow.

John presses his hips forward slowly, watching as Sherlock shivers in reaction, head dropping forwards, hanging between his shoulders, while his hands flex and clutch at the headboard. A long, low groan escapes lips that John would bet are bitten pink and plump, and the thought of it makes him push in a little harder than he meant to.

This is the third go around today and John has no idea how or why they'd started this time. As much as he wants it, and is impressed that they've managed to get it up again, he's also tired and a little sore and he's sure Sherlock has to be too, though he'd never admit it.

The second time seemed to last forever, a relative eternity of pushing and pulling, of sweat slick skin and sticky lube and the raw sounds of sex. God knows what it'll be like this time. A small part of John is worried that unexpected third erection of the day or not, fucking Sherlock Holmes or not, he's just not going to be able to get off.

His thighs are burning, his knees ache and he's had to stop twice to add more lube. Sherlock's moans are starting to sound a little pained, but every time John's suggested stopping, hating the idea of causing Sherlock pain through something that should be all pleasure, Sherlock's refused. John's just not strong enough to defy Sherlock's wishes (is he ever, where Sherlock's concerned?).

John pulls back, and his gaze drops to the place where he's fucking Sherlock. It looks obscene and filthy and so very sexy, the way Sherlock's body opens to allow John inside, skin stretched and deep pink around John's dick, shiny with lube and sweat. John can't help himself; he has to touch this visible, tangible proof of the fact that he's actually inside this infuriating, incredible man.

He leans back a little and spreads his knees wider to help keep his balance. The change in position makes Sherlock hiss and twitch. When John runs his thumb gently over the delicate, sensitive skin circling his dick, pressing carefully every so often, feeling the resistance and give of the flesh under his touch.

Sherlock's hips buck and twist, as if he can't decide whether to move away from or into the sensation. He groans, mostly wordless sounds, although John thinks he can hear the echo of his name in them.

John's using both thumbs now, stroking from top to bottom and back again, pressing against Sherlock and his own dick, teasing them both with the extra pressure. He keeps threatening to dip one or the other inside, and every time he does, Sherlock moans like he's dying and shifts and for a second, John thinks he's finally gone to far, finally found Sherlock's limit, but all Sherlock does is take one hand off of the headboard and drop it down to take hold of his own dick.

"Fuck..." Sherlock' says, voice wrecked, and the sound of it sends a flutter through John's body, a spark of arousal flaring suddenly brighter and hotter in his stomach.

He starts fucking again, keeping his thumbs pressed against that sensitive ring of flesh, fingers digging into Sherlock's buttocks to keep him balanced. John's sure at last that he's going to be able to come, he can already feel the tightening starting in his balls, feel orgasm twisting his guts and clawing up his spine.

Sherlock comes first, a sudden flurry of curses and groans and John's name spilling out. Just as Sherlock starts coming, just as his body is beginning to lock up, John pushes the tips of both thumbs in, alongside his dick, inside Sherlock, hooking them a little. Sherlock's orgasm is explosive, seeming to last for long, long minutes. John fucks him through it, as long as he can, but Sherlock's still twitching and groaning when John finally gets there, orgasm slamming into him like a train. It feels as though his body is going to turn inside out and he can't catch his breath. His dick feels like it's been rubbing against a cheese grater, sore and tender and wearing anything below the waist tomorrow is going to be torture, but when he collapses to one side and realises that Sherlock's already asleep, exhausted and fucked out, John can't help but feel like a sex god of some kind.


End file.
